Consumed
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: House and Cuddy are returning from a conference in London when their plane goes down.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House M.D., nor the characters.**  
Author's Note:** It takes place between Season Three's "Airborne" and the beginning of Season Four.

* * *

Cuddy closed the bathroom door with a sharp click. She glanced down the aisle and felt the plane shift slightly beneath her feet. She made her way back towards her seat and frowned when she saw House sitting there.

"What do you want?" she asked him.

House looked up at her, feigning surprise. "Oh. Is this your seat?"

"Fine." Cuddy folded her arms across her chest. "Sit there. I don't care. I'll go sit in your seat."

"Ah." House grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Nope."

Cuddy yanked her arm away, almost hitting the person in the seat behind her. House nudged the middle aged balding man sitting next to him. The man glared in return.

"Think I should give her the seat back?" House asked the guy.

"Yes," the man said bitterly, just wanting House to leave.

House glanced at Cuddy and frowned. He pulled the book she was reading from its wedged in place between his leg and the armrest. Cuddy reached for it, but House held it away from her.

"Would you knock it off?" Cuddy demanded harshly. "It's bad enough you got away with sending me to coach _again_, but I'd really appreciate it if you would-"

Cuddy stopped herself as House leaned over the arm of the seat and threw Cuddy's book towards the back of the plane. Cuddy glared and pressed her lips firmly together to keep from yelling. She began toward the back of the plane to retrieve her book as House stood from her seat.

The plane tilted sharply and House grabbed onto the seat in front of him before sitting down quickly. Cuddy fell to her right, landing hard against an older gentleman. She quickly straightened up as she mumbled apologies to him.

Cuddy let out a cry as the plane tilted again and began to shake. She quickly sat herself in the empty seat on her left. The woman sitting next to the empty seat glanced at her, but said nothing. There was a crackling sound and a voice came over the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the pilot advises that you please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts. There is a little turbulence, but it is nothing to worry about. Thank you."

Cuddy glanced toward her former seat to see House still occupying it. She rolled her eyes and fastened her seat belt as the plane began to shake more. The woman sitting next to her turned.

"Do you fly often?" she asked hesitantly.

"Not often, but enough." Cuddy gave her a smile. "It's nothing to worry about."

The plane suddenly tilted downward, causing cries to emit from several people. The luggage was rattling in the overhead compartments and a whizzing sound began. Cuddy swallowed hard and clutched onto the armrests. The plane gave a lurch forward and the left side of it dipped down as the oxygen masks released from above.

Cuddy looked up at the oxygen masks and tried to understand how this was happening. She reached for hers as did the woman next to her and they both put them on. Cuddy glanced up the aisle and her eyes met House's as he looked back at her before turning around and placing his oxygen mask on.

With a harsh jerk, the plane leveled out before shaking harshly from side to side. Cuddy felt her side slam hard against the armrest and heard the thuds of luggage falling from the overhead compartments. The noise level had risen to a mixture of tears, prayers, and screams.

The plane rumbled and tilted sharply to the right. Cuddy let out a cry as a black suitcase smashed into the side of her face before continuing on to the rest of the right side of the plane. Cuddy placed her hands to her throbbing face as blood oozed from the cut across her cheek.

A loud ringing sound was intertwined with a high pitched whizzing as the plane nose dived. Cuddy leaned forward in her chair, gravity pulling her. She fixed her oxygen mask after it had come slightly askew. She took her bloodied hands away from her face and pressed them against the seat in front of her to hold herself up.

The plane began to tilt upwards slightly before a harsh, hard, metallic hacking sound started and Cuddy was suddenly enveloped in darkness.

* * *

She awoke slumped over in her seat. Cuddy opened her eyes slowly, aware of the painful swelling of her right eye. She stared at the floor and moved her feet slightly, making sure they still worked. One of her high heeled shoes was missing. There was also a small amount of blood on the floor due to the dripping cut on her cheek.

Cuddy closed her eyes, her head throbbing. She could hear someone crying and she could smell something burning. She opened her eyes again and sat back. The plane was full of misty grey smoke which was getting thicker with each passing second.

Swallowing with a dry mouth, Cuddy unfastened her seat belt. She realized her oxygen mask had somehow come off in the crash. Looking to her right, she expected the woman next to her to be coming to as well, but the woman wasn't moving. Cuddy reached out to her, felt for a pulse, and then drew her hand back. She was dead.

Knowing she couldn't stay inside if she wanted to live, Cuddy glanced around the plane. Her thoughts went to House for a moment, but she pushed him out of her mind, knowing she couldn't worry about him if she wanted to get out.

The front of the plane was filling with a darker, blacker smoke now. Cuddy glanced toward the back of the plane and identified a bright light through the smoke. She used the top of her seat and the one in front of her to hoist herself up. She attempted to stand, but her left ankle screamed in pain and she fell to her knees.

Cuddy thought that it probably would be better if she crawled anyway, so she made her way towards the light at the back of the plane, avoiding suitcases, books, pieces of the plane, and a torn off limb. She reached the large jagged hole and did her best to make her way out, only receiving a few scratches to her legs.

Trying not to look at the mess of the plane, Cuddy forced herself to her two feet, being careful of the tender left ankle. She thought it was best to move away from the plane, for now, until she could be sure it wasn't going to explode.

She looked at her surroundings, scanning over a few bodies, twisted metal, and strewn luggage. The land was rough and trees surrounded her in every direction. Cuddy headed out into the woods, hoping the trees would provide some shelter until she was certain she was safe. She hoped that she would see others making it out alive as well.

Again, she thought of House, but she pushed him out of her mind still. She couldn't think about him. She didn't want to. She hoped he was alive, almost believing he could never die in a plane crash, but she knew odds weren't good. Especially since she didn't see any other moving bodies. Although, she could have sworn she _did_ hear someone crying. But, she could be wrong as well because her ears were currently ringing.

Cuddy limped past several large trees before turning back and taking in the wreckage. The front of the plane was crunched as if it had been as flimsy as a paper cup. The back of the plane had a gaping hole and a few other missing pieces, but was otherwise undamaged. The middle of the plane was emitting great clouds of thick, dark smoke.

A feeling of lightheadedness rushed upon Cuddy too fast for her to sit down. Darkness impeded on her vision and she closed her eyes before falling harshly to the rough forest floor.


	2. Chapter Two

**Thanks for the interest, everyone! And for all the comments. I enjoyed every one of them. Thank you!!**

* * *

House's eyes met Cuddy's. She already had her oxygen mask on. If this was it, he wanted to be sure to have one last look. Turning from her, House reached for his oxygen mask and put it on. The guy next to House was looking around wildly.

Frowning and rolling his eyes, House reached for the other oxygen mask and extended it to the man. The man took it with two shaking hands and placed it over his face. The plane harshly tilted toward the right, throwing the man against House. House was just thankful the man was on the side with his good leg.

As the shaking of the plane increased and the intensity of a high pitched whirring sound increased, a suitcase slammed hard into House's right thigh. House let out a yelp and a burning pain spread through his thigh before making its way up his chest and to his brain.

House shut his eyes against the blinding light that crossed his eyes due to the pain as he doubled over. The man next to him was chanting the 'Hail Mary' in a monotone and House was certain he was on his way to Hell.

He wasn't going to black out, House vowed to himself. When the plane crashed, there was an explosion that shook his entire body and made his insides come up out of him and into the aisle. Everything was too loud for a moment and then the noise tapered off and it was just quiet. Too quiet.

House looked around as smoke began to fill the plane. The man next to him was stirring, scrambling to take off his safety belt. House undid his own belt, aware that his thigh was throbbing in so much pain, he could very well pass out.

Before attempting to stand and find a way out, House swallowed a few Vicodin. His hearing now resembled a mumbled bubbling, much to the same effect of being in a fishbowl. House forced himself to stand to his feet. His cane was gone, but House had other thoughts on his mind.

His first priority was to get out. There was a patch of light sifting through the cloud of smoke forming just ahead. That was his goal. However, once House was perched in the aisle, clutching onto the seats for dear life, he looked toward the back of the plane, scanning for movement, scanning for her.

"Hey!" the man shouted at House as he waited to get into the aisle.

House turned toward the man, hearing the vocal projection, but unsure as to what was said. He realized he needed to get moving. House began toward the back of the plane, heading into the smoke and the mess.

"Hey!" the man repeated and grabbed House's arm.

The man gave a tug, trying to pull House toward the front of the plane and the way out. House struggled against him, needing to know if she was dead or alive.

An explosion sounded near the front right side of the plane, causing low vibrations. House and the man looked toward the sound to see flames licking up the wall and toward the ceiling. A dark cloud of black smoke started.

House began for the back of the plane again, but the man grabbed House roughly and shoved him up the aisle. House nearly collapsed from putting too much pressure on his thigh. The man realized House's thigh was causing a problem, so he stepped closer behind House and reached an arm around him to help keep his weight up.

Once they reached the thicker smoke, House pulled his tee shirt over the lower half of his face. The man caught on and mirrored House. Both men squinted as they further progressed to the emergency exit on the side of the plane.

House stepped out first, almost falling due to his thigh. He blinked against the sunlight and breathed in the fresh air. The man followed him out and the two stood a moment, scanning the dead bodies, pieces of wreckage, and other damaged items. House was looking for her.

A strong jawed man with brown hair and dark eyes hurriedly made his way toward House and the man House had been sitting next to. The approaching figure had blood staining the front of his shirt and he was masked with patches of dirt. There was a large cut across his forehead, but it wasn't actively bleeding.

"Hey, you okay?" the brown haired man asked both of them.

House was glad he could read lips because hearing was still difficult for him. He gave a nod as did the man beside him.

"We got a bleeder over there," the man pointed to a group of people huddled together near the edge of the woods. "And a few people are also hurt, but nothing too serious." The man forced a smile on his face. "Either of you happen to be a doctor?"

"I am," House spoke, but his own words sounded strange to his ears. He wondered if he even said it loud enough.

The brown haired man turned and looked at House, unsure if he should take him seriously. House took a step and almost fell due to his thigh. Both men reached for him and helped him to remain standing. House let out a grunt, his thigh making his eyes tear up.

"We got you," the man who approached them spoke. "My name is Dave."

"Greg," House offered, placing more of his weight on Dave.

"And I'm Bill," the man House had been sitting next to added in, but House could only tell that his name ended in 'ill.'

Dave began to lead the way towards the group of survivors. House used them to help him walk, every step he took more painful than the last. House scanned over each person in the group ahead of him and came to the quick realization that Cuddy was not one of them.

"How many other survivors are there?" Bill asked, his voice shaking slightly and his breathing labored.

"Including us, ten," Dave answered.

"Any females?" House hoped that his vision was off, or that maybe Cuddy was in the woods, or half hidden behind someone else.

"Two," Dave said. "One young woman in complete shock. And another woman who rescued a little boy on her way out of the plane."

House glanced at Dave. "They're not doctors?"

Dave shook his head. "No."

House was only able to hear the partial descriptions of the two females, but he clearly heard the answer to his last question. He felt a sinking feeling in his chest, fearing the worst.

"We lucked out getting you," Dave added on. "The bleeder's pretty bad."

The three reached the group of the other survivors who merely stared at them. There was a young man lying on the ground with a piece of metal sticking out of his shoulder as another piece stuck out of his chest. His forehead was glistening with sweat and two other men, both looking disheveled and bloody, knelt on either side of him, trying to soothe him.

A teenage boy with a mess of dark hair sat on a fallen tree along with a pale faced young woman. Another woman with long light brown hair sat away from the scene as she kept a boy with bright blonde hair from witnessing any more trauma.

"This is Mark," Dave pointed to one of the two men alongside of the bleeder, "and that's Jon. We can introduce each other later." Dave looked to House. "Can you do anything for this man?"

House shook his head, already determining the extent of the injuries. "He needs surgery. He's not going to live without it."

"Stay with him," Dave helped to seat House on the ground. "See if you can do anything. Jon, let's keep looking for any other survivors." Dave turned to Bill, whose face was reasonably paler. "Bill, you want to help?"

"Uh..." Bill's eyes were on the bleeder. He nodded and brought his gaze to Dave. "Sure."

House watched as Dave, Bill, and Jon began toward the bodies that surrounded the wreckage. His gaze shifted to the mess of the burning wreckage of the plane and he thought of Cuddy. House found himself feeling nauseated again as his guilt weighed down on him.

It was Cuddy's seat he had been in. He was alive and she was probably dead. House felt tears beginning to burn his eyes. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked down at the man bleeding out in front of him and forced Cuddy, and the fact that he left her on the plane, from his mind.


	3. Chapter Three

**Hey, guys! Thanks for all the fantastic feedback! Enjoy this chapter! :o)**

* * *

"I found someone! She's still alive over here!"

The first thing she felt was cold. Then, the unmistakable throbbing of pain that began from her left cheek before coursing through her body and settling in various other places of interest. She was turned over onto her back and the ground felt rough beneath her.

"Can you hear me?"

Cuddy forced her eyes to open and she found herself staring at a blurry brown haired man as he leaned over her. He held onto a stick which was lit on one end and provided a slight sense of warmth.

"Can you sit up? Here."

The man extended a hand and Cuddy took it. He helped lift her to a sitting position, which made Cuddy's head spin. She was well aware that her face was cut and bloodied. She just wondered if she looked as bad as she felt.

"Do you think you can stand?" he asked her. "If not, I'll call someone else over. We're trying to make sure we see all the bodies before nightfall to make sure we've found all the breathers."

The plane crash came back into Cuddy's mind through quick flashes, the last image going back to House as he turned in her former seat to look at her. Cuddy frowned, causing more pain to the swollen areas on her face, and directed her gaze to the man.

"I can stand." Her voice was rough and unfamiliar to her ears. "Though, I think my left ankle's twisted."

"Let me help," he replied.

Carefully holding onto the light source, the man leaned down and slid an arm around Cuddy's back. Placing an arm around his shoulders, Cuddy painfully brought herself to her feet. She stood a moment, her head suddenly throbbing and her vision blurring. She drew in a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"I'm Dave," the man told her.

"Lisa," Cuddy said in return.

Dave kept his arm around her backside as he held his self made torch in his free hand. Cuddy left her arm draped around his shoulders to hold herself up. Dave carefully and slowly began to lead her over to an area where she saw two fires lit.

Cuddy scanned the group, squinting slightly as she tried to get a head count and see if any of the heads belonged to House. However, it was too hard to tell so she looked back over at Dave.

"How many are there?" she asked, giving a small nod toward the group.

"Twelve, including me," Dave answered. "With you, though, we make thirteen."

"How unlucky," Cuddy muttered.

"Not from where I'm standing," Dave replied.

"Is there a," Cuddy hesitated, the words sticking in her throat, her guilt nearly choking her. "Is there a man there with a bad leg? From before the crash. He's a doctor."

"And an asshole," Dave added. "He has a stash of pain meds and won't spare any to two people who are in severe pain."

"His name is Greg House?" Cuddy couldn't believe it was actually him. She couldn't believe he survived.

Dave stopped, causing Cuddy to stop as well. He stared at her. "You know him?"

"Yeah." Cuddy nodded and felt tears fall from her eyes. "I know him."

"Damn lucky, Lisa." Dave began to move again. "You're the only one who's got someone."

As Dave and Cuddy reached the survivors, they were approached by another man. Cuddy noted there were several pairs of eyes on her.

"This is Mark," Dave said and the man gave Lisa a nod. "Mark, this is Lisa. She's got a twisted ankle and is friends with the asshole doc."

"You a doctor, too?" Mark asked her.

"Yes," Cuddy answered.

"Good," Mark said. "We've got two people pretty bad off. And there's a kid with his arm popped out of the socket, but he won't let anyone fix him. And your asshole friend won't offer up any pain medication."

"Where is he?" Cuddy scanned the faces set aglow by the firelight.

"Over there." Mark pointed to a dark area. "By the edge of the trees."

Cuddy felt relief at seeing the hunched outline of House sitting on the ground. She withdrew her arm from around Dave and began to limp in House's direction. She almost fell when she put pressure on her left foot.

"Need help?" David offered, as he clutched onto her arm, making sure she didn't fall.

"No." Cuddy shook her head and pulled her arm away. "And I'll be right back to help you with the people who are hurt."

Cuddy hobbled along slowly until she was standing just behind House. Her tears had started again and she balanced herself, putting a tender pressure on her left foot in order to make sure she stayed balanced.

"Hey," she said plainly, as if it was any other day.

House's shoulders straightened and his head perked up. He turned just enough to catch a small glimpse of her, uncertain if he really did hear her voice or if his guilt had just reached the point where he would be hearing her deceased voice everywhere.

Cuddy hopped further towards him and practically fell down beside him. Once she had better settled into a sitting position, she looked over at him as he stared at her, mouth partially hanging open, his eyes scanning her.

"You should give your Vicodin to those who need it," Cuddy told him, narrowing her eyes and using her authoritative tone as a means to bring something normal back into their lives.

"I need it," House retorted, engaging in her attempt at normalcy before adding, "I thought you were dead."

"They need it more than you," Cuddy replied to his first statement. "And I thought you were dead."

House swallowed the lump in his throat. "You're a mess. Some emo teen found a stream a little further into the woods. There isn't much water, but enough. Let me clean you up a bit."

Cuddy shook her head. "No, it's-"

"Cuddy, if you saw yourself, you'd want me to clean you up," House cut her off.

"Do it quickly," Cuddy told him. "I have to help the people who are injured."

House reached for a melted piece of plastic that served as a large bowl. It was filled with water and a piece of fabric was half submerged in the water. House lifted the cloth and squeezed some of the water out.

"There's nothing you can do for those people," House said as he began to wipe the dirt and dried blood from her face.

"Except ease their pain," Cuddy replied. "And pop that little boy's arm into place."

House rolled his eyes since he tried to get the boy's arm into place earlier. "Good luck with that."

Cuddy winced. "Ow."

"This cut's deep." House poked at the gash on her left cheek. "You should have it stitched."

Cuddy frowned, which hurt more than it should have. "With what?"

"MacGyver found some things." House rinsed the cloth and then went back to work. "Thread and stuff."

"It's fine." Cuddy hoped rescue would come before she needed to use items that were not sterile.

"It'll be one nasty scar." House pushed gently on the bruised area of her face. "And you've got a swollen eye here."

"Well, you've got a large scrape on your forehead," Cuddy replied, eyeing the offending mark on his forehead before letting her gaze drop. "And a split lip."

"As do you." House poked the cut on her lip.

Cuddy placed her hand on his arm to keep him from wiping her face clean anymore. Her eyes locked with his as they filled with tears again.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said quietly, holding her tears back as best she could. "I need to go check on those people now. And I would really appreciate your Vicodin, House. Think about it."

Using his shoulder as an aide, Cuddy forced herself to her feet. Her ankle screamed in pain, but she held her breath and let the feeling pass. Once it did, Cuddy half hopped, half hobbled back over to the group near the fires. House turned slightly and watched her go, glad that she couldn't see the tears in his eyes that stemmed from seeing her alive.


	4. Chapter Four

**Thank you for all the support and comments! I appreciate them greatly and I'm so glad you're enjoying this story. Here's more!!**

* * *

Cuddy was kneeling on the ground as she carefully examined the shards of metal sticking out of a man who remained motionless for the moment. She looked up at Dave and Mark, who were both holding lit sticks as a means to provide her better lighting.

"This is pretty bad," Cuddy told them. "He probably has twenty hours at the most. Ten to fifteen at the least. He's not bleeding out too much now."

"Is he in pain?" Dave asked.

"Yes," Cuddy answered, giving a slight nod.

"Tell that asshole to give up his meds," Mark glared at where House sat.

"I tried." Cuddy looked to the woman lying a few feet from the man with the metal sticking out of him. "What's wrong with this woman?"

Cuddy scanned the woman up and down, not seeing any external injuries.

"She has a head flap," Mark said.

Cuddy quickly turned to him. "What?"

"Her... um," Dave stopped himself, unsure of how to explain it.

Dave knelt down beside the unconscious woman and Cuddy scooted closer to get a better look. He pulled back the skin on the woman's head as well part of her skull, revealing her brain. Cuddy's mouth fell open as she stared, uncertain as to how this woman was still alive.

"She's never been responsive, but she's still breathing," Dave told her and placed the skin and piece of skull back in place.

"Oh." Cuddy merely said in response, at a loss for any other words.

"There's probably nothin' you can even do for her," Mark added in. "We're just hoping help'll come soon."

"Do you think that will happen?" Cuddy asked as she checked the woman's pulse. "That someone is coming?"

"They have to," Dave answered. "I mean, our plane didn't land."

"But we crashed this morning," Cuddy replied. "It's already dark out. And getting cold."

"We have Bill and the teen kid, Chris, finding more clothes and some blankets if they can," Dave told her in response.

Cuddy scanned the area and saw the two light sources close to each other and moving. She turned back to the woman and checked her eyes for pupil dilation. Dave held his torch closer to Cuddy to give her more light.

"She's in a coma," Cuddy said. "I'm surprised she's still breathing on her own."

"She in pain?" Mark asked.

"Probably not." Cuddy shook her head.

"But, this guy is." Mark pointed to the injured man. "Look at him shaking!"

Sighing angrily, Mark glared over to where House sat. Cuddy followed his gaze there before she looked to Dave.

"Where's the little boy?"

"With Janet." Dave reached out his free hand. "Here."

Dave helped Cuddy to her feet and took her over to a kindly looking woman with a soft face. The woman had a blonde haired boy in her lap. He was carefully clutching onto his arm. They both looked up at Cuddy.

"This is another doctor." Dave indicated Cuddy. "Her name is Lisa."

The little boy whined and pressed himself further against Janet.

"I'm Janet," the woman greeted. "And this is Joshua." She looked to the boy. "Do you want to show her your arm Joshua?"

Joshua shook his head. Cuddy knelt down next to the two. She let her eyes meet Joshua's.

"I can make your arm better," Cuddy told him.

"The other doctor tried, but Joshua wouldn't let him get close," Janet explained.

Cuddy brought her eyes to Janet. "Well, House doesn't really have a way with kids."

"I can pop it back in," Janet said. "Just tell me how and I'll do it."

"No, I should do it." Cuddy looked back at the little boy. "Hey, Joshua. It won't hurt, okay? Just let me take a look. I won't do anything without telling you."

Joshua eyed Cuddy up and then moved toward her a little. Cuddy drew in a breath, preparing herself, and then took the boy's arm quickly as her other hand went to his shoulder. She jerked his arm into its proper place.

For a moment, Joshua was quiet, but then he started wailing as tears began to stream down his face. Cuddy cringed and looked away, feeling awful. Janet tried to soothe the boy as she stared at Cuddy from over his head.

"He trusts you," Cuddy pointed out. "He needs you. You shouldn't be the one to cause him pain."

With Dave's help, Cuddy stood back to her feet and hobbled away, the boy's crying still hurting her ears.

"That was a nice thing you did," Dave commented kindly.

"Kid's been traumatized enough," Cuddy replied. "He doesn't need someone he trusts to become the bad guy who hurt him." Cuddy noticed a young woman sitting by herself against a fallen tree. "What's with that woman?"

"Her name's Annalise," Dave answered. "She was on her honeymoon in London and was flying home. She hasn't said a word since."

"Oh, God," Cuddy breathed out, realizing the weight of her situation.

"Yeah," Dave agreed quietly.

"Hey, Dave!" Mark's voice called out. "They've found a man! He's alive!"

The teen boy came running toward the group, carrying two torches. Behind him, Mark and Bill were carrying a bloodied and severely dirtied man.

"I'm going to get water," the teen, Chris, told them and took off after he handed one of the torches to Cuddy.

Cuddy watched as Bill and Mark set the man down next to the woman with the exposed brain. Dave helped Cuddy over to the man. Carefully, Cuddy knelt beside him, trying to determine what was bleeding. The first thing she noted was that his leg held two sharp angles to them.

"Do you have anything sharp?" Cuddy looked to Dave. "A knife? Or scissors?"

"Here." Mark held out a thin piece of glass.

Cuddy exchanged her torch for the piece of glass. With cautious and skill, Cuddy cut through the tough jean material and exposed the man's broken leg. Part of the man's bone was sticking out of his thigh, while at his shin, the skin was twisted with the bone pushing at the skin, but not breaking through.

Remaining in doctor mode, Cuddy felt the bones in his shin. She made a decision and twisted the lower half of his leg back into its proper place, making sure his thigh remained still. The man let out a scream and tried to sit up.

"Hold him down!" Cuddy called out, worried even more now that the man had come to.

Mark and Dave pressed down on the man's shoulders with one hand while they held their torches in the other. The man continued screaming, gaining the attention of the other survivors. Bill hurried over to Mark and Dave and took their torches from them so they could get a better grip on the man.

"House!" Cuddy looked to where he sat. "Give me your Vicodin."

"No!" House shouted back.

"I need you!" Cuddy replied and looked back down at the man.

House rolled his eyes and picked up his new cane, self made from a branch he found. He hobbled toward the screaming man and looked down at him. His eyes traveled to his leg, where Cuddy was sitting.

"What the hell did you do to him?" House asked.

"I tried to help him," Cuddy snapped back.

House frowned at her. "Help him or kill him, Cuddy? He wasn't screaming when he was brought over."

"House, please," Cuddy said, exasperated.

House extracted his pill bottle from his pocket and dumped a few in his hand. Chris came running in, carrying an open suitcase filled with water. House carefully lowered himself down at the man's chest and shoved the pills into the man's mouth. He used both hands to force the man's mouth shut.

"Swallow them," House commanded and waited a moment. "Swallow the damn pills and I'll let you scream your head off, okay?"

The man swallowed the pills and House released his hands. The man stopped screaming, but when on to heavy breathing and speaking incoherent words. Chris set the suitcase down and used a shirt to begin to clean the man off.

House looked over at Cuddy, who was examining the still protruding bone of the man's thigh. Cuddy lifted her head and her eyes met House's.

"Thank you," she told him.

House shook his head. "You've got your hands full, Cuddy. Keep in mind that you're not Wonder Woman, okay?"

"Give some of your Vicodin to that other man," Cuddy said sternly as she nodded toward the man with the metal protruding from him.

House let his eyes remain locked with hers for a moment, challenging her, but then he used his cane to stand back up and he began to do as she asked.


	5. Chapter Five

**Thanks for all the reviews! I appreciate them. Here's the next chapter.**

* * *

"You okay?" House stood by Cuddy as she sat on the ground. Her back was to the small camp of the other survivors and she refused to make eye contact with House.

"No," Cuddy bitterly answered.

"The woman's brain was exposed, Cuddy," House painfully seated himself beside her. "You knew she wasn't going to make it."

Cuddy brought her eyes, that shone with tears, over to him. "What about that man? Huh? I thought he had time."

House frowned. "He had two very large pieces of metal sticking out of his body. There was nothing you could do except make me waste some of my Vicodin on him."

Cuddy looked away from House. "We should have been rescued by now."

House paused and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. He decided to tell her. "No. We should have been in the ocean."

"What?" Cuddy turned to him.

"Heathrow to Newark," House said. "If we were on schedule, which we were, we would have crashed in the ocean."

Cuddy thought a moment. "So, we went off course?"

"Unless the ocean moved," House replied.

Cuddy gave him a look. "Shut up." She turned and looked at the group of other survivors behind her before she brought her gaze back to House. "Where do you think we are?"

House raised his eyebrows. "That's a very good question."

"Should we tell them?" Cuddy gave another glance over her shoulder.

"Probably," House answered with a shrug.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "Maybe help will still come. Maybe they'll look in the right area. Like Dave said, our plane didn't land. That means they have to be looking now."

"Right." House gave a nod. "In the ocean."

"But, don't they monitor where our plane traveled?" Cuddy kept her eyes on him. "Shouldn't they know where we are? Where we went down? Shouldn't they know we went off course?"

"You would hope so, wouldn't you?" he told her. "After all, there's nothing like being in a plane crash and stranded who knows where while people look for you where you're suppose to be, but aren't. I think I've heard of this before. It's called _Lost_. Seen it?"

Cuddy glared. "House, stop."

"We've got a doc, a kid," he paused a moment, "Which one do you think is the con-man?" House nodded toward Dave. "I go with MacGyver."

"Stop." Cuddy's tears were nearly spilling over. "Please. This isn't some TV show. Lots of people are dead and are still dying. I'm scared and I don't need this."

House diverted his eyes from her, feeling regret over his words. However, it was the only way he could understand and place perspective on their given situation. He raised his eyes back up to her. "Sorry."

"And no cell phones work?" She ignored his apology. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," House repeated.

Cuddy placed her face in her palms. "I don't want to die here." She lifted her head suddenly and brought her eyes to him. "Maybe we should explore. Maybe there's a town nearby."

"If there was a town nearby, they would have seen, heard, or felt something," he said in return.

Cuddy fell silent a moment and then spoke quietly. "So, what do we do?"

"I don't know," he told her honestly. He gave a nod toward the side of her face. "I should sew up your cheek."

Cuddy shook her head. "It's all right."

"You don't want a scar like that on your face," House replied. "And you have a bigger risk of infection. MacGyver boiled the needles we found."

"Okay." Cuddy let out a sigh as she gave in.

House forced himself to his feet and limped toward the rest of the group. Cuddy placed her fingers to the gash. There was still fresh blood there. She wiped her fingers on the pair of jeans Bill had found for her. They were men's jeans and Cuddy had to wear a belt she notched herself in order to keep them up.

"I'm going to double thread it." House lowered himself down next to her, clutching the needle and thread in his free hand. "Want a Vicodin for the pain?"

"No," Cuddy answered. "Just do it."

House stared at her. "Are you sure, Cuddy?"

"Do it," she insisted quickly.

Drawing in a breath and shaking his head slightly, House double threaded the needle. He had already given three other people pseudo stitches today. Once the needle was threaded, he brought his eyes to Cuddy.

"Are you sure you don't want anything for the pain?" he asked her.

Cuddy gave an affirmative nod. "I'm sure."

House used a wet torn cloth to clean around the cut. Cuddy winced slightly and waited for him to go on. She clutched tightly onto her knee, her fingernails digging into the thick fabric of the jeans she was wearing.

Without giving her a warning, House punctured her skin with the needle. As tears immediately welled up in her eyes, Cuddy tried hard not to cry out. House made three distinct stitches before he gave a swipe at her tears with the wet cloth.

"You're fine," he told her and continued on.

Cuddy closed her eyes, hoping that would keep any tears from falling. She still hadn't uttered a word, but let out an occasional whimper of pain. When House had finished, he carefully cut the thread with a piece of glass.

"Done."

House picked up the utensils he was using and stood back up. Cuddy's fingers went to her stinging cheek where she gingerly touched the stitches. House dropped his Vicodin bottle in her lap before heading back to the group to return the items.

Cuddy turned the bottle over in her hand, but didn't open it. If House was right, if they were in a place where rescue wasn't going to look for them, she figured the more Vicodin he had, the better. As House approached her for the third time, she gave his Vicodin back to him.

"Take any?" He didn't feel like sitting yet.

She shook her head in response. He gave her a gentle jab with his self made cane.

"You'll be all right," he told her. "It'll be all right."

"I hope so," she whispered in reply.

"Hey, Lisa."

Cuddy turned and looked behind her to see Dave and Mark approaching. House rolled his eyes and sat down on the ground. Dave stopped next to Cuddy, while Mark remained behind him, keeping his distance and glaring at House.

"What's up?" Cuddy asked them.

"Just wanted to let you know that Mark and I will be taking shifts to stay up and watch for rescue," Dave said. "So, make sure you get some sleep. By tomorrow, this will all be over."

"What can I do to help?" Cuddy turned herself to face them better. "I'm willing to take a shift."

"You can have the first one," Mark spoke up. "That way, you can sleep after and you don't have to worry about being woken back up for a watch."

"Sure." Cuddy nodded.

Dave extended a watch to her. "It's almost eleven. At one thirty, wake me up."

Cuddy took the watch from him. "Okay."

"If you hear or see anything, wake us up," Mark further instructed.

"I think that's pretty obvious," House muttered.

Mark glared at House again, who only looked away.

"Do you want a fire over here?" Dave asked Cuddy. "It's getting pretty cold."

"I'm going to make one," House said quickly.

"Okay." Dave gave a nod and then looked back to Cuddy. "One thirty."

Dave and Mark departed from them and Cuddy watched as they began to get themselves settled. She looked over the rest of the group, who were already asleep or almost there. Cuddy brought her eyes back over to House.

"You're going to build a fire?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yes." He sighed as he had to force himself to his feet _again_.

"Want me to help?" Cuddy offered.

"No," he answered hastily.

"Are you staying up with me?" she asked out of curiosity, but she knew that she wouldn't mind his company.

"What else am I going to do?" he shot back bitterly and began to find tinder for the fire.


	6. Chapter Six

**Thank you for the reviews!! I appreciate them. And I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

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House seated himself in front of Cuddy as the fire he built crackled and popped beside them. He took his bottle of Vicodin from his pocket and popped one into his mouth. He swallowed it dry as Cuddy watched him.

"You should drink some water," she said.

Giving a short nod, House took the makeshift melted plastic bowl and sipped some water from it. He offered the bowl to Cuddy, but she shook her head in refusal. House set the bowl down and then extended his Vicodin bottle to her.

"Here." He gave the bottle a shake. "Take one. For your ankle."

"It doesn't hurt that much," Cuddy replied.

"You should keep it elevated," House told her.

Cuddy shook her head for the second time. "No, it's fine."

Ignoring her, House picked up her leg at the calf and lifted it.

"House, don't-"

Cuddy cut herself off and frowned at him as he scooted closer and placed her leg on his shoulder. House smirked at her.

"You know, Cuddy, this isn't the first time we've-"

"House," Cuddy warned.

House gave a nod toward her foot. "Nice sneakers, by the way."

Cuddy looked to her foot as well. "Bill found them."

"He's a winner." House rolled his eyes. "Real delight."

"He's not that bad," Cuddy said. "Although, he was listening to church hymns on the plane."

"Figures," House replied. "He was praying the Hail Mary when the plane was going down."

Cuddy stared at House, her volume dropping. "You remember the crash?"

House paused a moment, deciding on whether to own up to it. "Yeah."

"You stayed conscious?" Cuddy asked.

"Very," House answered.

Cuddy fell silent. House knew he shouldn't have admitted the truth, but he was pretty sure that if he tried to cover it up, Cuddy would have seen through his lies. It was Cuddy who spoke up.

"What are we going to do tomorrow if help doesn't come?"

"Tell MacGyver and the rest of Gilligan's island," House offered.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "Do you think we're on an island?"

"I don't know, Cuddy," House replied, slightly annoyed. He frowned when he noticed a change in her face. "What?"

"Nothing." Cuddy shook her head. "My stomach was grumbling."

"Yeah, I don't know if we'll be finding any food," House said. "Maybe we'll go _Alive_ style like those Andes Mountain folk and eat people."

"House," Cuddy scolded.

House gave an innocent shrug, moving Cuddy's leg up a touch. "If it comes down to it."

"I'm not eating anyone," Cuddy returned quickly.

"Guess you'll die then," House told her.

"Yeah, I guess I will," Cuddy snapped back. Silence sat between them for a moment before Cuddy looked back over at him. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes on House. "If you... if you hadn't been you, one or both of us could be dead now."

House let out a sigh. "Cuddy, don't-"

"I would have been in first class with you," she cut him off. "I'd be dead if you didn't move my seat."

"And I'd be dead if you didn't go empty your bladder when you did," House added in.

"What if I took a different empty seat when you were in mine?" Cuddy paused a moment, eyebrows drawn. "Or... maybe if I hadn't sat down, the woman I was sitting next to would have slid over and... she'd still be alive."

House shook his head. "Don't do this to yourself. What happened has happened. Nothing we say or do now will change that."

"You're cynical," Cuddy accused of him.

"And you're guilty." That got her to look away from him. House continued, "You take the weight of everything. Even if it doesn't concern you."

Cuddy brought her eyes sharply back over to him. "This does concern me."

House rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking about this."

Cuddy frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"In general, Cuddy," House said. "Just... in general."

House looked over to the fire and watched the flames flicker while pieces of lit ash intermixed with the light breeze. Cuddy placed her hands on her arms, feeling the smooth material of windbreaker she had been given.

"It's getting cold," she commented.

"Yeah." House set Cuddy's leg down gently. "I'm going to find something to sleep on."

"What?" Cuddy asked.

House forced himself to his feet. "I'll be back."

"House, it's dark," Cuddy told him. "You don't know what's out there."

"I'll be fine," he replied and headed toward the wreckage.

Cuddy watched House until she couldn't see him in the darkness anymore. She could hear him limping along with his stick that served as his cane. She heard him stop and then grunt before she heard him dragging or pushing something over the ground.

As House came closer to the light, Cuddy identified two airplane seats connected together. House continued on pushing them, finding it difficult with his limp. Cuddy would have gone to help if she felt she could walk herself.

House pushed the seats close to the fire. When he was satisfied with the positioning, he stood for a moment as he caught his breath. Then, House plopped himself down on the seats. His eyes went to Cuddy.

"What time is it?"

Cuddy looked at Dave's watch. "Almost one thirty."

"Did Bill get you enough clothes to keep you warm?" House asked her. "I saw some dead bodies I can rob."

Cuddy glared. "House."

"There was a suitcase with some things in it," House told her, clearing up his sarcastic joke.

"No," Cuddy replied. "I'm all right."

"You don't have to be so brave, you know," House said.

His words caused tears to spring to her eyes, but she blinked them away. "I'm not being brave. I'm not trying to be. I'm fine, House."

"Okay." House gave a shrug.

Cuddy looked up from the watch. "One thirty. I'll be back."

"Here."

House stood to his feet and made his way over to her. He helped her to stand and then gave her his walking stick.

"Use that to help you," he instructed.

"Thanks." Cuddy gave him a tight smile.

Cuddy limped over to where Dave slept as she used the stick to help support her weight. House watched her, making sure she was really okay. Cuddy stopped next to the sleeping Dave and gently shook his shoulder until he opened his eyes.

Dave looked up at Cuddy. "Is help here?"

Cuddy shook her head. "No. It's one thirty."

"Oh." Dave sat up and took the watch from Cuddy. "Thanks, Lisa."

"No problem," Cuddy replied.

"Goodnight," Dave told her. "I'll wake you if anyone comes."

"Sounds good."

Cuddy limped back over to House, glad she could finally try to sleep. House had picked up the airplane blanket that Bill gave to Cuddy. House wasn't very much liked by the others and had subsequently only received a single coat, which he was wearing.

"Come on." House nodded toward the airplane seats, which he had tipped onto their backside to provide more room. "We'll share."

"Sharing?" Cuddy cocked an eyebrow. "I'm shocked."

"Shut up," House said.

Cuddy set House's stick down and then climbed onto the seats, careful of her hurt ankle. She pressed herself against the seat cushions in order to provide room for House. He covered her with the blanket and then rested alongside of her, his back to the fire he built.

House placed an arm around Cuddy as she turned toward him. He brought her closer into him to try and warm her. She shivered slightly against him.

"Try to sleep," he said quietly to her. "I'll keep you safe."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Thank you for all the fantastic comments. I appreciate them so much. Thanks!!**

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House awoke due to the sound of high pitched whimpering and the trembling beside him. He opened his eyes, aware of the beginning sunrise casting a light hue over the area. Cuddy was sitting beside him, tears on her face, and shaking. House sat up and turned toward her.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

Cuddy clutched onto her arms and shook her head. "I don't feel well."

House's eyebrows drew together. "How long have you been shaking?"

"I don't know." Cuddy gave a shrug before a shiver ran down her spine.

"You should have woken me up," House told her.

"I didn't want to bother you," Cuddy replied.

House frowned and placed his hand to Cuddy's forehead, which burned against his skin. He then turned her face to get a better view of her stitched up cut by using the fire glow and the morning light. The area around the cut was swollen and red.

"Damn it," House cursed and then noticed the red discoloration to her neck.

Cuddy squirmed away from House as her shaking increased for a few seconds. House leaned forward and pulled at the collar of her windbreaker and the shirt underneath. He examined the skin underneath, which only further proved his theory by the spreading of the red rash.

House forced Cuddy to lie down on the airplane seats and lifted her clothes to reveal her abdomen and back, where there were light streaks of pink that ran under her skin due to the rash. House covered her back up.

"Is this like Singapore?" Cuddy asked him.

"No," House answered quietly.

Cuddy sat up and groaned. "It feels like Singapore."

"No," House told her. "It's real this time."

"I'm really sick?" Cuddy asked.

"Yeah," House answered. "You have an infection."

"The needle." Cuddy brought her hand to the tender area around her stitches.

"The needle was clean," House said. "It could have been anything. Maybe even walking around with the cut open for so long."

Cuddy squeezed her eyes shut as another set of shivers coursed through her body. "Make it stop. I want to stop shaking."

"Just rest, okay?" House tried to ease her back down.

"I can't." Cuddy forced herself to remain sitting upright. "I have to help people. The woman with the brain thing."

House frowned. "Cuddy, she died."

"What?" Cuddy shook her head and then looked around. "No... she's over there. I'll show you."

Cuddy tried to get up, completely ignoring the pain in her left ankle. House pulled on her to keep her down.

"Stay," he spoke as gently as he could. "You're delirious."

"Everything all right over there?" Mark's voice called out to them.

"No," House called back, his focus still on Cuddy.

Mark made his way over to House and Cuddy after watching the struggle between them. "Can I help?"

House glanced up at Mark. "You can wake up MacGyver and tell him we crashed where no one is looking for us."

"Wake who?" Mark's eyebrows drew together. "And what?"

"Dave," House clarified. "And our plane would have crashed in the ocean if we were flying to Newark. We must have went off course." House gave a nod to where Dave was sleeping. "Now, wake up MacGyver and figure out how we're going to get rescued because she needs medical treatment now."

"Are you fucking serious?" Mark stared at House "And you brought this up now because _she's_ dying? What about the two we already lost?"

"Don't take me being an asshole out on her," House replied. "She's only been trying to help everyone since she came to, the least you could do is try to help her now that she needs it."

Mark looked over to Cuddy, who was trying to hold back her shaking as her face grew even paler. He let out a sigh.

"I'll wake Dave," Mark said and made his way toward the sleeping body.

House watched Mark walk away and then brought his eyes to Cuddy. "How are you doing?"

Cuddy swallowed hard as her stomach wrenched inside of her. "I'm going to be sick."

"Cuddy, you haven't even eaten anything," House told her.

Cuddy dry heaved over the edge of the seats, bringing the acidic taste of gastric juice mixed with saliva into her mouth. She spat at the ground before going into a coughing fit. House reached for the bowl of water and brought it to her.

When her coughing had subsided, House offered the water to her. Cuddy took a drink from it and handed the bowl back. She leaned her back against the plane cushions as tears fell from her eyes. House set the bowl aside and then helped Cuddy into resting on the seats again. He wiped the tears from her face.

"I don't want to be here," she said as she looked up at him.

"I know," House replied.

Cuddy closed her eyes and tears slipped from them. "I want to go home."

"It's okay." House brushed the hair from her face.

"No, I want to go home." Cuddy opened her eyes and locked them with House. "Please."

House gave a nod. "We'll get rescued."

"Promise?" Cuddy asked.

"Yeah," House answered and then diverted his eyes.

"What do you mean we crashed off course?" Dave called out as he stormed over to House and Cuddy with Mark trailing behind him.

House shrugged. "That's exactly it."

"Then where are we?" Dave demanded.

House reached for his stick. "I don't know."

Dave's eyes went to Cuddy. "What's wrong with Lisa?"

House forced himself to his feet. "She's sick and going to die if we don't get her to a hospital."

Dave brought his eyes back to House. "I don't know how I can help with that if I don't even know where we are."

"So, then what do we do?" Mark looked from Dave to House.

Dave let out a sigh. "We're going to have to tell everyone." He looked to House. "Are you sure we crashed off course?"

"If we didn't, wouldn't rescue have come by now?" House asked him.

Drawing in a breath, Dave looked over to the other survivors who were still asleep. His eyes lingered on the man with the broken leg. Dave turned back to House and Mark.

"We need to find a way to contact someone," Dave told them. "Maybe we could go out, try to find a signal on the cell phones with battery life still left. Or explore the wreckage for anything that could get us noticed. Flares or something."

"We're going to need food, too," Mark added.

Dave gave a nod. "Okay."

"I can take Jon with me and we can look for any high places to try and get a phone signal," Mark offered.

"Yeah," Dave agreed. "That's good. Jon needs to get away from here and get some space from this. We'll get Chris and Bill to dig through luggage for food and I'll go into the plane."

House cleared his throat. "Anything I can, uh... do?"

Dave and Mark both stared at House, not believing that he had just volunteered himself to their service.

"I could use someone with me in the wreckage if you can get around with your leg." Dave gave a small shrug.

"I can," House replied.

"Okay." Dave looked to Mark and then back at House. "I'll go wake the group."

Dave turned and left with Mark walking alongside of him. House looked down at Cuddy, who was breathing rapidly as she was spread out on her side. House knelt carefully down beside her, trying not to hurt his thigh.

"Hey..." House placed his hand on her shoulder.

Cuddy opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Things are going to be all right," House assured her. "I'll get you home."


	8. Chapter Eight

**Thank you SO much for all the reviews. Really. You guys are amazing. Here's the next chapter!**

* * *

House stared down at Cuddy. She was on her back on the airplane seats, her breathing rapid. The sun was up, but the air was still cool. House lifted his head and took a look around, taking in the moment, the situation.

The little boy, Joshua, was being led by the woman with long brown hair into the woods. House couldn't recall the woman's name, but he heard her mention taking the boy to the stream. The recent widow was sitting in front of a fire, staring at the flames as tears slid down her cheeks. House hadn't heard her speak once.

Mark and Jon were still off on their adventure with the cell phones. Dave was helping Bill and Chris to find food and any medications from the wreckage around the plane. The man with the broken leg was sleeping fitfully and, thinking of Cuddy's words, House had slipped him a few more Vicodin to try and help.

The exploration into the airplane had been somewhat fruitful. Dave recovered a flare gun with three flares. He also found a walkie talkie with battery power left, but it didn't pick up any signals. House, on the other hand, had been digging through suitcases, but he couldn't find anything useful. He managed to recover two flashlights, but they wouldn't serve as any help to Cuddy.

House turned his attention back to Cuddy. He knelt down carefully beside her and set his walking stick aside. House reached two fingers out and felt Cuddy's pulse, which was much faster than it should have been. He then examined the stitched cut on her face, which had swollen to a larger size.

"How is she?"

Turning slightly, House looked up to see Dave standing behind him. "Not well."

"What's wrong with her?" Dave asked. "She was fine before."

"She has sepsis," House answered.

Dave noticed the red color on Cuddy's neck which further expanded underneath her clothes. "Is she going to die?"

"She'll go into septic shock." House's voice was hard, emotionless. "Have multiple organ failure."

Dave's eyebrows drew together. "How... how long?"

"She has a fever and a high heart rate," House said. "She hasn't had any urine output which means her kidneys are already failing." House turned and looked up at Dave. "And she's having trouble breathing. It all depends. A day. Maybe."

"When Mark and Jon get back, we'll make a new plan," Dave told him. "We'll see if there is a good place to shoot off the flares. We'll figure something else out."

"Yeah." House looked back at Cuddy.

"Do you have family, Dr. House?" Dave asked, finding that House wasn't as bad as he first seemed. "Wife or kids?"

"No," House answered.

Dave brought his eyes to Cuddy. "What about Lisa?"

"No." House shook his head.

"Jon lost his wife and three kids in the crash," Dave said. "I don't have anybody. I can't imagine losing the one you loved like this, you know? That woman, Annalise, has been taking it hard."

"Yeah." House just wanted Dave to shut up and go away.

"Hey, we found some things," Chris announced as he approached and brushed some dark hair from his eyes.

Bill followed behind him, a shirt tied together with the found items inside. He dropped the shirt to the ground while Dave and Chris knelt down to untie it.

"Any medication?" House asked.

"Cough medicine, indigestion stuff, and Advil," Bill counted off the medications as he pulled the bottles from his pocket.

House let out a sigh, none of the drugs all that helpful. He extended a hand. "I'll take the Advil."

Bill handed the bottle of Advil to him.

"We found granola bars," Chris said. "And a few bottles of water. And peanuts from the plane."

Bill looked around. "Mark and Jon aren't back yet?"

"Not yet." Dave stood to his feet. "We'll pass out the granola bars. There's enough for everyone to get one." Dave picked up two and extended them to House. "Here."

House took the two bars and gave a nod. "Thanks."

Chris gathered the remaining items and carried them over toward Annalise and the man with the broken leg while Dave followed after him. Bill remained by House, his eyes on Cuddy.

"She doesn't look well," Bill commented and wiped sweat from his balding head.

"She isn't," House replied.

"I'll pray for her," Bill assured House and went to join Dave and Chris.

House watched Bill walk away before turning back to Cuddy. He tore open one of the granola bars and scooted closer to Cuddy. Gently, he shook her shoulder.

"Cuddy..." House tried to wake her.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together, but she kept her eyes closed. "Are we home?"

"No," House answered her.

Cuddy opened her eyes and squinted against the bright sun. She turned onto her side, facing House.

"I have some food," House told her.

House tore off a piece of the soft granola bar. Cuddy stared at him, a frown on her face and slightly confused.

"What?" she asked him.

"Here." House pushed the piece of granola bar into her mouth.

Cuddy spit the food from her mouth and it bounced along the seat until it landed on the ground next to House's leg. House looked from rejected piece of food to Cuddy.

An expression of annoyance crossed over his face. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"I don't want it." Cuddy turned onto her back and closed her eyes against the sun.

House frowned at her. "You have to eat."

"No, I'm fine," Cuddy replied. "I just want to go to bed."

"Cuddy." House nudged Cuddy with the granola bar. "You need to eat this."

"No," she whined. "It's dry. My mouth... No."

"Please," House asked of her. "For me."

Cuddy let out another whine. House placed the granola bar back in its wrapper and set it on the airplane seats along with his granola bar. House opened the Advil and shook two pills into his palm. He lifted the bowl of water and extended both the pills and the water to Cuddy.

"Take these then," he told her. "They'll take your fever down."

Cuddy forced herself to sit up as she opened her eyes. She took the pills from him and put them in her mouth before taking a drink from the bowl.

House took the bowl from her and set it on the ground. "Now, will you try to eat?"

He picked up her granola bar and extended it to her. Cuddy shook her head as she bent over and threw up the water and the Advil. House stared at her a moment.

"Okay..." House said. "Eat this and then take the Advil."

"Sorry," she mumbled an apology to him and took the granola bar.

Cuddy bit into the granola bar and chewed it. She felt nauseous still and she just wanted to spit it out. Cuddy stopped chewing. She couldn't bring herself to swallow so she took another bite of the granola bar.

House watched her, but Cuddy didn't seem to take notice. Now, her mouth was full of granola, none of which Cuddy was planning on swallowing. She looked over to House, the last bit of her granola bar in her hand.

"You gonna swallow it?" House asked and Cuddy shook her head. He kept his eyes on her. "You need to eat something."

Cuddy shook her head again. Her mouth was too full and she felt her stomach lurch. House saw the warning sign.

"Cuddy, swallow," House commanded of her.

She felt her stomach heave and she leaned over the seats as she began to cough. House let out an aggravated sigh as Cuddy spit out the granola.

House decided to forgo the food and set out to get Cuddy to take the Advil again. Cuddy sat back against the seats as she wiped her mouth with her windbreaker sleeve. House shook another two Advil from the bottle and placed them in Cuddy's hand. He then offered the water to her.

"Try to keep them down."

Cuddy placed the pills in her mouth and washed them down with water. House took the bowl from her as she rested down on the airplane seats and curled up on her side. House set the bowl down and examined the cut on Cuddy's face again. She flinched away from him.

"When are we getting home?" she asked him quietly between heavy breaths as she tried to keep her nausea at bay.

"Soon," he told her just as quietly. "We're going to get home soon."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Hey, guys! Thanks for all the reviews. I love 'em. And this is the second to last chapter so enjoy!!**

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House forced himself to his feet when he saw Mark and Jon emerge from the woods. He gave a glance at the sleeping Cuddy before heading over to the group.

"How did it go?" Dave asked. "Any reception?"

Mark shook his head. "No, but there's a clearing a little while out and then a huge mountain Jon and I want to scale. We thought we'd come back and get some supplies before heading out again. There's no food anywhere."

"Here." Bill handed a granola bar to both Mark and Jon.

Mark tore open the wrapper and hungrily took a large bite from the granola bar. House stepped up alongside of Bill, trying not to draw too much attention to himself.

"We have flares and a walkie talkie," Dave said. "You should take them with you."

"Where are you going?" House's voice was low.

"To a mountain we saw," Jon answered since Mark's mouth was full. "We hope there'll be reception or, at least, we can see if there's anything useful around."

Mark swallowed hard. "We thought we'd sleep for a few hours and then head out in the dark. We could get to the top of the mountain by early morning."

"I want to go with you," Chris spoke up, breaking into the conversation.

Mark shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" Chris demanded.

"You're just a kid," Mark told him. "You'll stay with the group."

Chris scowled, but didn't say anything. Mark popped the rest of his granola bar into his mouth.

Jon cleared his throat. "Mark thinks we're in Canada."

"Why?" House frowned at him.

"Vegetation." Mark shrugged. "Temperature. It seems like it, but I can't be sure."

"How would you know?" House challenged him.

"I'm a teacher," Mark replied. "History and geography."

"Elementary," House muttered.

Mark glared. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Hey, cool it, all right?" Dave stepped in between them, knowing of Mark's hatred for House. Dave turned to Jon. "Jon, eat something. We'll get you both water and sacks to take with you. Dr. House found flashlights, you can take those."

Dave led Mark over to where he was keeping their supplies. Bill followed after them, wanting to be included so he knew what was going on. Chris headed over to where Joshua was playing with some rocks and sticks, hoping to try and give the boy company since he wasn't needed to go on the expedition.

Jon turned toward House. "How's the guy with the broken leg?"

"Still broken," House answered. "In and out of consciousness."

"And how is Lisa?" Jon asked.

House paused for a fraction of a second. "Not well."

"I hope we get rescued soon," Jon said. "For the both of them. But, especially for her."

House's eyebrows drew together slightly. "Why?"

"She survived only to die from some infection?" Jon shook his head slightly. "It's like fate dangled the prospect of her being okay in your face."

"Why do you think I care that much about her?" House knew he spent a lot of time with her and shared the airplane seats with her, but he didn't think he was that obvious.

Jon shrugged slightly. "The way you look at her. It says it all."

Jon tore open his granola bar and walked away from House. House stared after him for a moment, watching him go. He then turned and made his way over to Cuddy. Carefully, he knelt down beside the airplane seats.

"Cuddy." He gave her a gentle shake. "You should drink some water."

Cuddy opened her eyes, but it took her a moment to settle them on House. She drew in a sharp breath.

"We're not going home, are we?" she asked tiredly.

"We are," House told her. "We will."

Cuddy shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. "No, we won't. I can't breathe. I feel like I can't take in enough air."

"Try to stay calm, okay?" House asked of her.

Cuddy turned over onto her back, her breaths coming in short and quick. She closed her eyes, her tears slipping from the corners. She opened her eyes back up and squinted against the sun.

"Anything else hurt?" House waited, but she didn't respond. "Cuddy?"

Her eyebrows drawing together, Cuddy turned her head in his direction. "What?"

House kept his eyes on her. "Are you with me?"

Cuddy stared at him a moment, trying to understand his words. It was becoming more and more difficult for her to concentrate and focus, which was starting to scare her.

"What?" she repeated.

House felt the light tingling of fear creep over him. "Are you still with me?"

"I don't..." Cuddy trailed off before letting out a sigh.

House frowned as he suddenly heard a distant sound coming closer. He turned quickly and looked toward the rest of the group.

"Is that a helicopter?" Dave asked as he stood to his feet.

"Shoot off a flare!" Mark exclaimed quickly.

Dave picked up the flare gun and loaded it. He hurriedly aimed it toward the sky. Janet covered Joshua's ears as Dave pulled the trigger of the flare gun. There was a loud bang before the flare shot up into the sky.

The survivors waited a moment, staring up into the sky. Mark gave a nudge to Dave.

"Shoot another one," Mark commanded.

Dave began to load the flare gun again, but stopped when Chris spoke out.

"Look!" he exclaimed and pointed to the sky as a helicopter came into view.

Bill and Jon let out cries of joy. House felt a small sense of relief wash over him and he turned away from the hovering helicopter to look at Cuddy. Her eyes were closed and face, pale.

"Cuddy." House gave her small shake. "Lisa."

Cuddy sucked in a breath and forced her eyes to open. She directed her gaze to House.

"Do you hear that?" House asked her. "It's a helicopter. It's rescue."

Cuddy's eyes closed again. House glanced up at the helicopter hovering overhead and then leaned down towards Cuddy, his face alongside of hers, his lips near her ear.

"Stay with me, okay?" he whispered to her. "Just for a little longer. Stay with me."

Cuddy shook her head slightly. "I can't... House..."

She drew in a breath that wasn't deep enough. Each breath was more difficult than the last. House brushed some hair away from her face.

"I'll get you on that helicopter," he told her. "Just keep breathing, Cuddy." He swallowed hard. "Lisa. Please."

House forced himself to his feet and looked up at the helicopter. A man was quickly descending from a ladder. House hurried over to where the ladder remained several feet above the ground.

Dave and Mark were standing next to each other, staring up as well. Bill was helping Janet, who was carrying Joshua, over to the ladder. Annalise was being escorted by Jon, and Chris was standing several feet back, taking it all in.

House squinted at the man descending, the wind caused by the helicopter making his eyes tear up. House reached into his pocket and extracted his Vicodin. There were about six pills left. He popped one into his mouth.

The man dropped from the ladder and looked to Dave and Mark first.

"It's good we found you," he shouted over the noise of the helicopter. "We were afraid you were in the ocean and we'd never get ya."

"Where the hell are we?" Mark shouted back.

"Newfoundland," the man answered. "The island. Now, how many of ya do we got?"

"Eleven," Dave told him.

"And she needs immediate medical care," House spoke up and then pointed toward Cuddy.

The man nodded. "We've got a pilot and a paramedic up there, but we can't land here. There's a place about a quarter of a mile out, if you want us to land."

"I'll help carry her up the ladder," House said. "She doesn't have time to wait."

"Dr. House, I'll help," Dave offered. "You can't carry her with your leg."

"We can take half of you to the nearest city and another chopper will come get the rest of you," the man looked around at the group. "We'll take five if we're getting those who are injured first. And we called it in, so the other chopper should be here soon."

"I'll get Lisa." Dave hurried over to her as House followed after him.

Dave bent down towards her and slipped an arm under her back and another under her legs. Cuddy let out a mix of a groan and a whimper as Dave lifted her from the airplane seats. He shifted her in his arms and drew her into him.

House watched, feeling a pang of jealousy and a flash of anger, knowing _he_ could never be the one to carry her. He limped after Dave as they headed back for the helicopter ladder. Mark and Jon were attempting to get the man with the broken leg into the helicopter. With the extra tug of the paramedic, they managed to get him inside.

Joshua was placed on the ladder next with Janet following behind him. Once they were safely inside, Annalise climbed the ladder and entered into the helicopter. The man that first descended was still standing on the ground, next to the ladder. House hurried in front of Dave and over to this man.

"She's in septic shock," House told him. "Tell the paramedic. She needs oxygen."

"We'll do what we can," the man replied.

House frowned at the response as Dave reached the ladder with Cuddy in his arms. Mark climbed halfway up the ladder and Dave hoisted Cuddy up until Mark was able to take partial hold of her while still managing to hold onto the ladder.

Cuddy was much lighter than the man with the broken leg and had much less movement. Mark pulled up on her while Dave and House both tried to push her up further. The paramedic leaned out of the helicopter and reached down for Cuddy.

Mark helped the paramedic get a good grasp on her. The paramedic pulled up on her while Mark pushed her up with his arm around her abdomen, and House and Dave pushed the best they could from below.

The paramedic pulled Cuddy into the helicopter and the last House could see of her was the sneakers that Bill had given to her.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Thank you for the tremendous interest in this fic! I'm glad you enjoyed it and thanks, again, for all the wonderful comments! Here's the last chapter.**

* * *

Cuddy opened her eyes and then squinted against the bright light in the room. She looked to her left where a large window was letting in sunlight.

"I got you home."

Her eyes quickly went to the right where House was sitting in a hospital chair. He was staring at her, his hair a mess and his stubble a bit thicker than usual.

"Sort of," he continued. "It's not exactly home, but I can't do all the work. You need to pull your own weight."

"Where...?" Cuddy's voice was rough and cracked slightly.

"Eh?" House placed a puzzled expression on his face, before he quickly dropped his act. "Canada. Nice, eh? Good thing we had passports. Key word being _had_."

House popped the lid of the bottle of Vicodin in his hand. He swallowed a pill dry and returned the pill bottle to his pocket.

"Shouldn't you have run out?" Cuddy asked him, her eyes on his pocket still.

"We're in a hospital, Cuddy," House replied with an eye roll.

Cuddy frowned and brought her eyes to his face. "What happened?"

"Well, you've been in and out for about three days," House told her as he stood to his feet, still using his self made cane. He crossed toward her bed. "Your lungs almost gave out on you. Your heart was close behind."

"How, um..." Cuddy drew in a breath, recalling the events. "Things are so fuzzy. The others? The man with the leg?"

"Oh, he's great." House moved around her bed and to the window. "Talking, eating jello, acting like he's the toughest shit on earth."

"House," Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him.

"What?" House stopped in front of the window and stared out at the busy city below. "He didn't come close to dying."

"He was in pain," Cuddy said.

"Aren't we all?" House asked, half distracted.

Cuddy looked away from him and glanced around the room. Her eyes settled on the flowers set on a small table across from her bed.

"Where'd the flowers come from?" She brought her eyes back to him.

"Dave," House answered over his shoulder.

"Is he all right?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows slightly. "And everyone else?"

"They're fine." House turned and faced her. "They went home."

"Where are we exactly?" Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "And what happened to our plane? Why did we crash?"

"We're in Newfoundland." House made his way back over to her bed. "And the airlines gave some bullshit about a haywire navigation system and idiot employees. You bet your ass there'll be a lawsuit."

Cuddy shook her head. "I don't care about a lawsuit. I just feel terrible for all those people. All the families. All those that died."

"You were almost one of them," House told her with a slight nod.

"Yeah," Cuddy agreed quietly. She paused a moment. "Thank you, House. For not... for just... For being there. For taking care of me."

House moved around her bed. "Well, the only other doctor was you and no one was relying on you in that state. It had to be all up to me."

"I don't remember much about being rescued," Cuddy admitted to him. "What happened?"

"I carried you on my back for miles. Over a river, up a mountain." He caught the look she was giving him and gave in. "A helicopter found us."

"Guess we were lucky then," Cuddy replied.

"Yes." House seated himself in his former seat.

"When do we go home?" Cuddy asked him.

"When you're better." House gave a shrug. "A week, maybe two."

Cuddy frowned. "That long?"

"You were pretty sick," House told her. "And you should get some rest."

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "When are you going back?"

"When you do." House picked up the magazine that sat on the floor next to his chair.

"You're going to wait?" Cuddy kept her eyes on him.

"I said I would get you home, Cuddy." House lifted his eyes to hers. "And that's what I'm going to do."

* * *

"Nervous?" House cocked his head in her direction.

Cuddy's knuckles were beginning to turn white from clutching so tightly on the arms of her airplane seat. She looked to House.

"Yes," Cuddy answered his question.

"Think this one'll go down?" House asked.

Cuddy let out a slight whine. "We should have drove."

House raised an eyebrow. "With what car?"

"We could have taken a bus," Cuddy said. "Or train. Anything else."

"This is faster," House replied. "Besides, what're the odds of being in a plane crash twice?"

Cuddy paused and gave a slight nod. "That's true."

"And we already know what to do if that should happen," House told her.

Cuddy glared at him. "You're not funny."

"Yeah, well..." House let himself trail off and placed a hand on hers, doing so as nonchalantly as he could.

* * *

Cuddy picked up her phone quickly. "Hello?"

"How are you?" House's voice came through the phone.

Cuddy moved around her bed and made her way into her bathroom. "Haven't had a moment of peace since I've been home. I've had calls from my aunt, two of my friends, my cousin, my uncle on my dad's side, my-"

"You can stop," House cut her off. "I get it."

"I'm about ready to turn the ringer off." Cuddy stopped in front of her bathroom mirror. She leaned closer, examining the scar on her face.

"Go ahead," House told her. "You still need rest."

Cuddy let out a sigh. "This scar is awful."

"What?" House asked, confused.

"I'm looking at my scar," she clarified, a frown on her face. "I doubt make up will hide it."

"It'll fade," House said.

"Not soon enough," Cuddy replied. "And it'll always be noticeable."

"It'll be there to remind you I saved your life," House added.

"Right." Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

House's tone came through softer. "Let the machine get your calls, get some sleep, and I'll see you at the hospital tomorrow."

Cuddy smiled slightly to herself. "Goodnight, House."

"Night," House responded and hung up the phone.

* * *

"Is it just my large ego or is everyone staring at me?" House directed his question to Wilson as he entered into his own office.

Wilson followed him in, but remained by the door. "Everyone's staring at you."

"How strange." House played clueless as he crossed the room, limping along with stick that served as his cane in Newfoundland.

"Really, House?" Wilson raised his eyebrows. "You should have seen this place when we thought you were dead."

"A large party comes to mind." House faced Wilson and sat down in the chair behind his desk.

"We were too busy mourning Cuddy to party." Wilson went along with him.

House leaned back in his chair. "Ah, of course."

Wilson hesitated before speaking sincerely. "House... I'm glad you're okay. The both of you."

House gave a slight nod of understanding as he lowered his chair back down to its rightful position. Wilson returned the nod and let himself out.

* * *

"Long day," House said as he entered Cuddy's office with two coffee cups balanced, one on top of the other, in his free hand. "Brought you some coffee."

Cuddy looked up from her desk and then stood to her feet. "Thanks."

House slowly began his trek across her office, his eyes on the coffee cups. "Have you been busy?"

Cuddy met him halfway and took the top coffee cup. "People have been in and out all day. I'm finally getting a break." Her eyes fell on his makeshift cane. "How long are you planning on using that?"

"Until the novelty wears off," House replied.

Cuddy shook her head as she made her way back over to her desk. She sipped her coffee and then seated herself in her chair. House walked over to the chair across from her desk and sat down. He took a gulp from his coffee and set the cup down on the edge of Cuddy's desk.

House rested back in the chair and watched as Cuddy made notes on the paper in front of her. After a moment, he spoke.

"Cuddy?"

"Hm?" Cuddy lifted her head to look at him.

House's eyes flicked to her scar before he diverted them to his coffee cup. "Never mind."

Cuddy watched him now. "House?" She waited until he looked at her. "Thank you for getting me home."

He held her eye contact. "You're welcome."

Cuddy gave him a smile and then went back to her work. House picked up his coffee and sat back as he took a sip, his eyes still on her. Silence sat between them, but neither minded. After everything they had gone through, and everything they had done for each other, right now, they were both glad to simply be in the other's company.


End file.
